


All Her Fault

by TheMightyGhost



Series: Stories [16]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Maternal Instinct, Other, Pre-Thor (2011), Recovery, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 18:23:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20971001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyGhost/pseuds/TheMightyGhost
Summary: She had failed the Queen...





	All Her Fault

She had stopped pacing after the first hour of waiting. Instead, she had found the nearest corner and curled up, hiding herself away from the rest of the palace. She only looked up when she heard the sound of the Allfather and his sons, but she didn’t dare make eye contact, the guilt too much for her to bear.

She ran her crimson-stained hands through her disheveled hair, wishing more than ever that the sword had sunk into her stomach and not Frigga’s. After everything the Queen had done for her… Sigrid had failed her. 

She knew she would receive no comfort from Loki. He had a hard, icy look on his face when the healers informed the family that they were forbidden from entering the healing chambers. Sigrid didn’t dare speak to him, she just focused on hiding her face from view, shedding silent tears, knowing that she didn’t deserve anyone’s pity or sympathy. It was all her fault. That sword had been meant for her, not Frigga. 

The Allfather was the one who sat down next to her on the floor, much to her complete shock. His wrinkled hand clasped her own, squeezing in a reassuring way that made her brave enough to face him. His one good eye peered at her, a weariness about him that fit him ill. 

“Thank you for being there for her,” Odin said quietly. She hadn’t expected him to thank her. “Without your quick thinking, she would be dead. She will survive this, she is far too stubborn to allow a sword wound to take her soul to Valhalla.”

Sigrid licked her dry lips, averting her gaze. Be that as it may, it didn’t stop the guilt. It didn’t change the fact that Frigga had willingly pushed Sigrid aside to protect her, because she had let her guard down like the stupid girl she was. She was almost relieved when Odin removed his hand from hers, though he remained seated beside her, not saying anything more. She stood up, wandering down the corridor to stretch the kinks out of her legs, stuffing her shaking hands into the pockets of her torn up coat. 

“You should rest,” Thor said gently, placing his hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. She shrugged his hand off and continued wandering down the corridor, keeping her back to them so they wouldn’t see the tears spilling down her face. 

By the fifth hour, when they still hadn’t heard anything, Sigrid slipped into a nearby alcove and knelt down, doing something she hadn’t done since childhood. She prayed.

By the seventh hour, Sigrid felt dead on her feet. The blade had been tainted with some sort of poison, she knew that much. Was that why the healing process was taking so long? What if they could not find a cure? The Allmother would perish and it would be Sigrid’s fault. She should have taken the blade to her stomach, not Frigga.

Odin was standing vigil by the door, Thor sitting at his father’s feet scratching drawings into the stone with his knife. Loki hadn’t moved an inch since he had arrived, standing against the pillar facing the healing chamber doors, brow furrowed, face downcast, arms crossed. 

One of the assistant healers quietly opened the door. All four of them looked at her, making the poor woman incredibly nervous. “Lady Sigrid… would you come inside please?”

Sigrid exchanged a confused look with Thor, but it was Odin who said, “Is she awake?”

The healer hesitated. 

“Answer the question!” Loki spat out, the first words he had uttered in hours. 

“Loki…” Thor shot him a warning look. 

“Lady Eir wishes to speak with Lady Sigrid, Allfather. That is all I am permitted to say.”

Sigrid silently crossed the threshold, flinching when the doors slammed shut behind her. Her eyes drifted to the bed at the far end of the room, where a smiling, albeit very tired looking Frigga was beckoning her over.

She ran towards the Allmother, unable to prevent herself from weeping. “You’re alive…”

“Yes, my dear.” Frigga reached for her hands and clasped them in hers, smiling that motherly smile of hers. “I wished to speak with you before my boys caused a fuss. I wanted to thank you.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Sigrid burst into tears, unable to stop Frigga pulling her onto the bed and enveloping her in a warm, maternal embrace. “It should have been me…”

“No, darling girl. That blade was meant for me. They wished for my death to punish Odin. You were only going to be collateral damage.”

“But-”

“Sigrid. Listen to me. You saved my life by acting so swiftly. You protected me. You killed that assassin. You are not to blame.” Frigga cradled her face in her warm hands, an intense glint in her eyes. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Sigrid gave a tiny nod. 

Frigga kissed her brow. “You look exhausted. Have you been standing out there this entire time?”

Sigrid nodded. “I couldn’t…” She stifled a yawn. “I couldn’t rest without knowing…”

“Rest here with me.” Frigga guided Sigrid onto her side, drawing the blankets over them both. Sigrid sighed, too exhausted to protest, listening to the sound of the chamber doors flying open as Odin and his sons’ patience wore out.

“Frigga!”

“Mother!”

“Shhh!” Frigga silenced the three of them, gently stroking Sigrid’s hair. “Why did you not insist she get some rest?”

“I did, but she refused!” Thor argued.

“Shh!” Frigga scolded him for being too loud. Her eyes wandered to Loki, who was hovering at the end of the bed looking unsure of himself. “Don’t you dare blame her for what happened to me, Loki,” she warned him, “Else I’ll string you up by your ears.”

“Yes, Mother…” He blinked rapidly, and then when Frigga held her hand up to him, he climbed onto the bed and curled up by her other side, pressing his face into her, his long limbs awkwardly curling up on the bed. 

Midway during the night, Sigrid stirred, finding herself making eye contact with Loki. Blinking, she sat herself up just enough to peer at him more clearly, before realising that Frigga was gone. 

Before she could panic, Loki said, “Father took her to their chambers to rest.”

“Oh.” She lay back down, then realised that during her slumber, she had been cleaned and changed into a soft nightgown. “Who changed my clothes?”

“The healers.” The ‘obviously’ was left out, but the implication of it was still there.

Sigrid glanced around and realised something. “This isn’t the healing chambers…”

“No, of course it isn’t. Why would it be?” Loki gently tugged her down, or attempted to, but she resisted. “Sigrid…”

“You blamed me.” She sat up, not willing to face him. “I wish that blade had gone through me and not your mother, but it didn’t, and I’m sorry.” She could feel herself begin to well up and in a shaky voice said, “I’m going to take a bath.”

She didn’t wait to hear his reply, she doubted he would. She couldn’t blame him, not really. Despite what Frigga had told her, it was true. She should feel guilty. That sword had been meant for her, not the Allmother. It was all her fault.

“I’m not going to apologise for the way I feel.”

Sigrid didn’t look at him, continuing to wash herself with the cloth, hiding her shaking hands beneath the water. 

“But I am going to apologise for hurting you. I do not handle my emotions well, you know that better than most. Besides… what could either of us have done to comfort the other? It was better that I remain silent lest I say something I would regret.”

“You didn’t need to say anything, though. I can read you like a book.” She rinsed out her washcloth and draped it over the edge of the tub. “It was written all over your face.”

“Your guilt was written all over  _ your  _ face.”

Surprisingly gentle arms lifted her out of the bath water, wrapping her up in a warm fluffy towel. “You were so brave today,” he murmured, lifting her chin up so she was forced to look him square in the eye. He rested his forehead against hers, breathing in and out shakily. “You aren’t hiding your hands very well at all, darling.”

“It’s just the cold-”

“You have been shaking all day.” He lifted her up and carried her into the bedchambers, where he set her down near the hearth and started patting her dry. He dressed her in one of his winter tunics, helping her into a pair of his socks which came up to her knees. He spent a while brushing and braiding her hair, neither of them uttering a word. Sigrid began to feel sleepy, her head slumping backwards against his shoulder. Loki didn’t say anything, he just finished braiding her hair before carrying her to bed. 

She stirred when the lights went out. “Do you hate me?” she whispered into the darkness.

“No,” he replied, his lips pressed up against her earlobe. “I could never hate you.”

Despite his assurances, Sigrid couldn’t relinquish the guilt that felt like a heavy weight she was carrying in the pit of her stomach. She went to sleep and dreamt of poisonous assassins and Frigga’s cold, lifeless body. It was what she deserved, after all she knew Frigga had been lying to protect her. They hadn’t been here for her or the Allfather. They had been here for her, for Sigrid. 

It was all her fault. 


End file.
